


Can't Get Better Than This

by ThatBohoFemme



Series: Tsavd danem [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Post Survivor Series 2018, Pre-Relationship, there's only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26057446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatBohoFemme/pseuds/ThatBohoFemme
Summary: After their match at Survivor Series 2018, a perfect storm pushes Mustafa Ali and Buddy Murphy together.
Relationships: Buddy Murphy/Mustafa Ali
Series: Tsavd danem [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890469
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13
Collections: Extreme Deadline Exchange '20





	Can't Get Better Than This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedLeaderfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/gifts).



> Title from _Can't Better Than This by Taki Waki_

All Mustafa wants to do is crash into his bed, order some late night room service and relax.

Yet, to quote The Rolling Stones, _you can’t always get what you want._

Instead, he’s stuck at an after party for Survivor Series. The office has him rooming with Elias- not normally an issue except he'd been warned both Finn and Bayley were over.

Lord only knew what that actually meant but Mustafa’s not prepared to find out. 

He finds a dark corner perfect for hiding. He grabs a soda water with a twist of lime and goes to take refuge.

He's never been one for huge parties. They're always too loud, too busy or just too _everything_. He tolerates them when he has to- just like he's doing now.

A chair scrapes against the tile, pulling Mustafa out of his thoughts. He blinks, startled to see _Buddy Murphy_ settle across from him.

"Haven't we seen enough of each other tonight?" Mustafa takes a long gulp of his soda and crunches a mouthful of ice. 

"You have the best corner in the place." 

"It is a good corner, isn't it?" Mustafa laughs, setting his glass down. "Fine- take a seat." 

"Already have." Buddy flashes him a mischievous grin. 

They've just come off a killer match. They'd practically tore the roof off the place- Buddy understood him in a way few others seemed to. The match still lingers fresh in his mind, and on his body. He doesn't ache exactly- but he definitely feels the match. 

"Good match," Mustafa says, stirring the drink with a cocktail straw. He's surprised when Buddy reaches across the table, and offers his hand to shake. 

Mustafa accepts, Buddy’s hand warm in his grasp. As their hands meet, a jolt of electricity passes between them. Startled, Mustafa pulls back.

“You felt that?“ Buddy gives Mustafa a questioning look as he stares down at his hand.

“I think so.“ Mustafa jammed his hands into his pockets. His fingertips still tingle but he's not sure if that's reality or a figment of his imagination. 

Leaning over his glass, he takes the straw between his lips. He takes a long sip, desperate to buy a few moments. He has no idea what to say in this situation.

Nothing sounds right.

“Probably going to be a strange question.“ Buddy swallows, nervously drumming his fingers against the scarred table top.

“Yeah?” Mustafa leans in, straining to hear Buddy over the chatter.

”If you need a place to crash, I don’t have a roommate.“ Buddy focuses harder on the table top. “I spoke to Elias earlier, and he mentioned his company.”

Mustafa nods, not quite knowing what to say. 

This is an odd situation to be in. 

“That might have been too forward," Buddy mumbles, turning as red as his hair. “I'm sorry - I -“

“No. It's fine.” Mustafa offers him a kind smile. "I appreciate your offer. You just caught me off guard.”

“Sorry." Buddy begins shredding a bar napkin into small pieces. 

"No need to apologize." Mustafa reaches out, resting his hand on top of Buddy's. "And thank you for the offer. I will definitely take you up on it.”

"Still can't believe we did it." Buddy shakes his head, his eyes full of wonder. 

"I knew we could do it." Mustafa squeezes Buddy's hand. "So- ready to get out of here?” 

"I thought you'd never ask." Buddy pushes back and slides off the barstool.

They catch an Uber back to Buddy’s hotel. They ride in complete silence, letting the chatty driver fill the space. 

Adrenaline's finally beginning to wear off. Mustafa feels every muscle come to life at once, and scream for some kind of comfort. 

Sleep cannot come fast enough.

"Here." Buddy tosses a pair of red french fry print pajama pants at Mustafa. 

"What?" Mustafa catches the pants and brings them to eye-level. 

“Unless you want to interrupt whatever the hell is going on in your room - you have no clothes. Sleeping nude is an option - I certainly won't mind- but something tells me you don't want that." Buddy shrugs as if saying _pick your fate._

“No- that's quite alright." Mustafa's only walked in on Elias once and that was enough to make sure it never happened again. 

"May be a little big but...” Buddy's voice trails off. "Best I got.”

“Oh no- I appreciate it." Mustafa runs his fingertips down the well-worn fabric, marveling in the softness. 

“My favorite pants. I don't share those with just anyone." Buddy laughs. "Elias has been trying to get them for ages." 

Mustafa nods, silently amused by the way Buddy comes to life. 

It's really quite endearing. 

Mustafa goes into the bathroom, switching designer jeans and a much loved Star Wars T-shirt for the coveted pajamas. He sinks into their welcome comfort. 

"These are amazing." Mustafa pads out, meeting Buddy in the sitting area. "You may never get them back." 

"You might be the one to get with it- emphasis on _might_." Buddy thrusts a hotel-issued toothbrush at Mustafa. “If you were at my house, there'd be better but...” 

“No. I appreciate whatever you've come up with.” Mustafa accepts the toothbrush, firmly ready for whatever the night brought. 

“Ordered room service." Buddy plops onto a stiff green sofa. “Vegetable omelet?”

"You know my order." Mustafa does his best to hide his surprise. "That's impressive." 

"You mentioned it before." Buddy shrugs. "No big deal." 

Mustafa can't decide if he's smitten or terrified. 

"I'll take the couch." Mustafa warily eyes it. He _thinks_ he'll fit. It won't be great but he should be able to make it work. 

He'll feel it in the morning but it's still better than the alternative. 

"You really want to sleep on this miserable thing?" Buddy presses his hand into the cushion. 

"What?" 

"This sofa is terrible." Buddy presses down on the cushion again. "You'll feel every spring." 

Mustafa gazes around, taking it all in. There's a small loveseat and a queen sized bed. _Of course_ there's always the floor but that couldn't be worse than sofa...

"Up to you." Buddy gestures to the bed. "You're welcome to share with me- more comfortable than this miserable thing."

Mustafa nods, still at a loss for words. He hadn't expected the night to go like this. It's a lot to take in, especially after the match they'd had.

"Sounds good." Mustafa sinks into a chair across from him. He winces, realizing the chair is every bit as uncomfortable as Buddy had suggested the sofa was. 

"Ow." Buddy shakes his head as he shifts on the couch. "They were full at the host hotel, so I ended up here."

"How'd you manage to avoid a roommate?" Mustafa appreciates this a great deal but still, it's an oddity.

"Late addition." Buddy nods at the title case. "Champion rights." 

Mustafa laughs, still in awe. 

There's something between them. Mustafa can't decide what it is. Lust? Love? _Downright intrigue_?

Mustafa can't decide- he just knows he likes it.  
\---  
Mustafa wakes to Buddy's arm wrapped around his waist. Part of him wonders if he should pull back, horrified to be this close to him. 

The other part of him actually _likes_ it. 

Buddy tightens his hold on Mustafa, pulling him closer against him. It's almost as if he fears Mustafa will leave before he can wake up. 

Mustafa finds it endearing as he sinks into the man's touch. Warily, he glances over his shoulder. If Buddy catches him awake and watching him, this could be awkward. 

Mustafa doesn't want that. 

Instead of moving, Mustafa drifts back to sleep. He hasn't had a chance to sleep in since sometime before Halloween.

The bed's surprisingly soft. Buddy's warm- almost like a human space heater. There are worse places to be. 

He sleeps, letting all his troubles fade away. 

He wakes to Buddy, shaking him awake. Groaning, he shoves Buddy away.

"Go," he grumbles, shoving him again. "Let me sleep." 

"Cold oatmeal is disgusting." 

Mustafa slowly opens his eyes, surprised to see Buddy hovering over him. _Oatmeal_? Was this just an odd dream? Why would he dream of Buddy Murphy feeding him oatmeal? 

This has to be a bizarre dream. 

"I hate to wake you but _food_." Buddy laughs, stepping back. "Figured I'd surprise you." 

Mustafa stares up at the ceiling, letting the events of last night come back to him. Avoiding Elias and whatever the heck went down in their shared room. Buddy inviting him to share his room, despite only having one bed. 

_Cuddling._

There had been cuddling. 

And now apparently... _oatmeal_.

Mustafa could get used to living like this- a fact that scares him. He isn't supposed to like Buddy.

He pushes out of bed, doing his best to stretch and wake. 

This still feels like a dream. 

"Are you crashing here tonight?" Buddy nods at the table set with fruit and oatmeal. 

"If you'll have me." Mustafa sits, shakes out a cloth napkin and spreads it in his lap. He sprinkles a packet of cinnamon into his oatmeal, hoping it'll do something _anything_ to cover the taste.

In reality, he _abhors_ oatmeal but he'll never admit it. 

"You're always welcome." Buddy sits across him, stirring his own bowl of oatmeal. 

Buddy's gone out of his way to be nice. Mustafa refuses to take that from him. 

"Guess you'll be stuck with me." Mustafa sips a cup of strong black coffee. 

He notices Buddy doesn't exactly look displeased at the thought. 

-end-


End file.
